


Disquiet

by sciencefictioness



Series: Legacy [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: BDSM, Dom Zenyatta, Dom/sub, M/M, Mentions of Genji/Gabe, Mentions of Genji/Jack, Orgasm Delay, Poly Genji, Safe Sane and Consensual, Shameless Abuse Of Voice Lines, Spanking, Sub Genji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 10:23:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11804091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencefictioness/pseuds/sciencefictioness
Summary: The first time Genji met Zenyatta had been at the temple.Filthy, smelling like old liquor and cigarette smoke and sex.  Bruises on his throat, and between his thighs, and even if no one could see those it felt like everyone knew they were there.  A bloody lip, teeth marks sunk into the inside, body aching all over.  Abused.  Used, and tossed aside.  Nothing he hadn’t sought out.Nothing he hadn’t begged for.  They’d given him exactly what he wanted, but Genji still felt empty.Like nothing would ever fill him.  Like he was broken.Like he’d run thousands of miles to escape, only to realize he couldn’t.There was no running from himself.“Someone hurt you, my friend.”Genji had laughed, and shrugged.“I asked them to.”“It seems you asked the wrong people, then, if you are here alone, in pain and still full of chaos.”Then Zenyatta had tossed out one of his orbs, glowing gold bright and beautiful.He’d started crying instead, defenses crumbling all at once in the face of Zenyatta’s light.





	Disquiet

The first time Genji met Zenyatta had been at the temple.  

 

He’d snuck into the inner courtyard long before they opened it for the day, and Zenyatta found him leaning against a low stone wall, staring at the night sky.  

 

Filthy, smelling like old liquor and cigarette smoke and sex.  Bruises on his throat, and between his thighs, and even if no one could see those it felt like everyone knew they were there.  A bloody lip, teeth marks sunk into the inside, body aching all over.  Abused.  Used, and tossed aside.  Nothing he hadn’t sought out.

 

Nothing he hadn’t begged for.  They’d given him exactly what he wanted, but Genji still felt empty.

 

Like nothing would ever fill him.  Like he was broken.

 

Like he’d run thousands of miles to escape, only to realize he couldn’t.

 

There was no running from himself.

 

“Someone hurt you, my friend.”

 

Zenyatta had hovered at a distance, watching Genji with something like concern, though Genji couldn’t have picked it out at the time.  The subtle change in the way his orbs moved, the careful flex of his fingers, the barest tilt of his head.  Right then he looked mechanical and unfeeling, and Genji had laughed, and shrugged.

 

“I asked them to.”

 

“It seems you asked the wrong people, then, if you are here alone, in pain and still full of chaos.”

 

Then Zenyatta had tossed out one of his orbs, glowing gold bright and beautiful.  It hadn’t given him peace, Genji too hurt inside for the thrumming energy to break through entirely.

 

He’d started crying instead, defenses crumbling all at once in the face of Zenyatta’s light.

 

…….

 

The warmth of the sun on his face.  The wind blowing through his hair.  Bells, low and sonorous.  A noise he associated with peace and calm, down somewhere deeper than his conscious mind.  The soft, barely noticeable hum of his master’s body, the chiming of his orbs as they circled him.  Genji inhaled, slow and steady, trying to keep his breathing even.  Trying to let his limbs fall loose, to let his body relax into the familiar sounds and scents of the temple, of Zenyatta.

 

Except his leg was bouncing again, thumb tapping against his thigh, the muscles in his back tense.  

 

Restless and unsettled.  His thoughts wandered, as they often did lately, to Hanzo.  Not in a meditative way as he was supposed to be doing, drawing his problems to the surface and then letting them go.

 

Genji was dwelling, searching for answers that he didn’t have, to questions he was afraid to keep asking.

 

Hanzo seemed happy enough.  He was anxious a lot, but he’d always been that way.  Did Genji notice it more now because his anxiety was worse, or because Hanzo no longer had to hide it so ruthlessly?  Was he content at his job, in his apartment, or was he still playing a role?  Pretending for Genji, instead of their father.  

 

Genji wasn’t sure how much of Hanzo was real, and how much was him trying to live up to someone’s expectations of what he should do and say and feel.

 

Was he still reading lines, and reacting to cues?

 

Acting out his life for an audience of one, desperate to make Genji happy.

 

God, Genji didn't deserve him. 

 

It wasn’t that he regretted dragging Hanzo halfway around the world, and throwing him headlong into a life that was utterly unfamiliar to him.  Genji had done it for Hanzo’s own good.

 

Left alone in Hanamura, with only the clan by his side, Hanzo would have turned into a monster.  Become dark, and cold, and empty.  

 

Someone Genji didn’t recognize, and he couldn’t lose Hanzo that way.  So he’d begged, and pleaded, voice full of desperation.

 

_ They’ll kill you, Hanzo.  Gut everything good in you, and leave behind a shell.  A Shimada, and only a Shimada, when you’re so much more than that. _

 

_ Come with me, brother. _

 

Hanzo had.  When presented with an ultimatum, the Shimada clan or Genji, Hanzo chose his brother.  And Genji didn’t regret it.  His family would have poisoned Hanzo, used him like a puppet, swung him like a sword at their enemies within and without.

 

Yet Hanamura was all they’d ever known.  

 

Home was still home, even if it was a nest of snakes.

 

Hanzo had settled in just fine, if a bit slowly, but he was also a trained assassin.  Was he blending with his surroundings, establishing a routine… living his life like he was on a hit, instead of as he pleased?

 

Genji wasn’t even sure Hanzo knew how to want things on his own.

 

 

Not when everything he'd ever wanted had been used against him.

 

 

Genji wanted him to forget what he’d been raised to be, and be true to himself instead.  It was something that always lurked in the back of Genji’s mind, but it had been bothering him more than usual the past few days.  An itch he couldn’t scratch, driving him crazy, making him impatient and twitchy.

 

Normally he would just go visit Gabriel and Jack to clear his head, but they’d been out of town for the better part of a week, and wouldn’t be back anytime soon.  His apartment felt empty when he didn’t have anywhere to go to escape it, the quiet solitude he so often took refuge in turning into something stifling and oppressive.

 

There was always Zenyatta, and it had been a while since they spent any real time together outside of his daily meditation, but he had duties at the temple.  Genji was loathe to take him away from them for selfish reasons, no matter how much he would enjoy it. 

 

He felt like a nuisance more often than not.  High maintenance, requiring an incredible amount of attention to keep from getting lost in his own head.  Jack and Gabriel had been fine before he came along, happy together with no need of a petulant, bratty sub to take care of and spoil.  Zenyatta, too, had been content with his quiet life at the temple, his familiar routine of meditation and teaching.

 

Then Genji had crashed into their lives with all the grace of a freight train, and never left, an unending source of mild to moderate chaos.

 

Genji, and his constant need for reassurance, and praise, and affection.  Genji and his inability to right himself, once he began veering off into the murk of his own self loathing.  

 

Hidden carefully beneath flippant laughter and sardonic grins, without the steady presence of Jack or Gabe or Zen to comfort him, Genji could barely stand himself.

 

The fact that he couldn’t settle sometimes, that he needed someone else even him out, was infuriating.  Genji was about to sigh, annoyed, when Zenyatta’s voice sounded out behind him.

 

“Something troubles you.”

 

Something had been troubling him for  _ days.   _ It spoke volumes about Zenyatta’s patience, and willingness to let Genji work out his own problems, that he’d only just now brought it up.  

 

Once, not so long ago, when presented with such a question, Genji would have shaken his head.  Lied, and said he was fine.  Worry equaled weakness, and there had been a time that Genji couldn’t afford to be seen as weak.  Then he’d hit rock bottom, and there had been people to pick him up, and put him back together.

 

Zenyatta had taught him to be true to himself.

 

Jack had shown him the freedom of letting go, the catharsis of allowing himself to feel all the things he struggled to keep inside.

 

Gabriel helped him understand that every part of him was worthwhile, and important, and that none of it should be cast aside.

 

So instead of denying the obvious Genji threw himself backwards out of his meditation pose, and laid on the grass, staring up at Zenyatta where he hovered nearby.  The sun silhouetted  Zenyatta, throwing out a halo around him, orbs glinting as they caught the light.

 

There were a lot of things troubling Genji, so he chose the easiest truth, the one least likely to result in a lecture about self worth.

 

“Hanzo seems more anxious lately, but he claims he is fine, that everything is normal.  I worry about him.”  

 

Zenyatta hummed, his orbs flowing out of their meditative arrangement and lazily circling his body.

 

“It is the same thing that often worries you, is it not?  We’ve spoken of it many times.  You can only do so much to help your brother, and then he must decide he wants to help himself.  You cannot force change from without.”

 

One of his orbs broke away and started hovering idly around Genji, emitting a soft golden glow.  He smiled up at Zenyatta as peace washed over him, honey sweet and soothing.  All his anxieties flowed out of him like water, leaving behind nothing but warmth, and a feeling of belonging.

 

“That’s cheating, master.” 

 

Zenyatta reached down, threading cool metal fingers through Genji’s hair, running a thumb over his cheekbone.

 

“Have you not been to see Jackson and Gabriel?  I’m quite certain they could take your mind off your worries.  You haven’t mentioned them of late.”

 

Genji pouted, leaning into Zenyatta’s hand with a huff.

 

“They went on a business trip last week.  They won’t be back for another five days or so.”  

 

The silence stretched on for a moment, the whirr of Zenyatta’s internal workings constant and unchanging.

 

“If I recall, they’ve made it clear that you are always welcome to accompany them when they travel together.  Is there a reason you chose to remain here?”

 

Genji rolled his eyes, and took the path of least resistance.  Telling Zenyatta he didn’t want to go on business trips with Jack and Gabe because they were tedious was only a lie of omission.

 

They  _ were  _ tedious, but Genji also felt useless there, nothing more than a pretty face in a sea of clever businessmen and successful entrepreneurs.  

 

“It’s so  _ boring,  _ they’re always attending meetings and talking to clients and-”

 

“Doing business, on a business trip.  How inconsiderate of them.”

 

The wry amusement was obvious in Zenyatta’s voice, and Genji couldn’t help but smile, arching his back as he stretched.

 

“Whose side are you on, master?”

 

Zenyatta kept stroking at his hair, untangling the strands, orbs weaving around the both of them in slow arcs.

 

“There are no sides, my student.  Only the truth, and the different lenses through which it is viewed.”  He paused, head cocked to the side inquisitively.  “Have you been sleeping alone at your apartment all this time?”  

 

Genji shrugged, turning over onto his side, leaning harder into Zenyatta’s touch.

 

“I stayed at Hanzo’s for a couple of nights, but he can tell I’m worrying about him, and it makes things worse.  He gets moody if I hang around all the time fussing over him.”

 

Zenyatta hummed again, thoughtful.

 

“Would you like me to come and stay with you?  I am not Jack or Gabriel, but I am sure I can suffice in their absence.”

 

Buried in between the lines of Zenyatta’s words was something heated and enticing, and Genji clenched his thighs together and shivered all over.  He smiled wide, peering up at Zenyatta from underneath his lashes, something lascivious and unrepentant in his expression.

 

“Yes, master.  I’m sure you can.”

 

…….

 

In theory, getting on his knees for Jack and Gabriel, and getting on his knees for Zenyatta, were much the same.  All three demanded obedience, breaking Genji down into the most basic of parts.  Touch, and taste, and  _ yes, sir, please, sir.   _ All three worked him over, until the only thing left of Genji was sensation.

 

In practice, however, it was as different as day and night.  

 

Gabriel was ridiculously easy to manipulate.  Genji batted his eyelashes, and played at being a good boy, and Gabe usually gave him everything he wanted.  Jack was a little harder, but nothing some earnest begging didn’t take care of for the most part.

 

Zenyatta was not like that.

 

Zenyatta was unyielding.

 

Genji pushed, and Zenyatta did not give way like Gabriel.  Did not push back like Jack, only to cave later on, smug like he’d won something.  Genji pushed, and Zenyatta stood firm.  Not unaffected, even if it felt like it in the heat of the moment sometimes.

 

Genji had seen what he did to Zenyatta, had heard it.  The way his voice wavered, robotic tones glitching as Genji whimpered and moaned.  The fluttering of his orbs in the air, their paths wavering just so when he called out for his master.  The lights on his faceplate strobing, surging up alongside the barest trace of white noise and static in the air as Genji reached his peak.  

 

Not an orgasm, Zenyatta insisted.  

 

Sensory overstimulation, paired with an incredibly evolved emotional attachment to Genji, and all feelings that entailed.   An empathetic overload.

 

A gift from the Iris.

 

He could call it whatever he liked, but watching Zenyatta shiver and white out in euphoria was just as satisfying for Genji as someone coming in shuddering gasps across his skin.  Moreso, maybe, because he didn’t touch Zenyatta in any particular place to get him off, didn’t physically bring him to climax in a deliberate way.

 

Zenyatta watched him, and couldn’t help but shake apart.  Brought down by just the sight of him.

 

_ ‘How could I not lose myself,’  _ he’d asked one night, holding Genji close and tracing the lines of his face.

 

_ ‘You’re magnificent.’ _

 

But the soft words and quiet praise and gentle touches came later.  First Genji had to give himself over to Zenyatta, piece by piece, until there was nothing in him anymore.  No thoughts, no wants, no responsibilities, no regrets.

 

Just existence.  Harmony. 

 

Right then, Genji was not feeling harmonious.  

 

Right then, Genji was on fire.

 

He leaned over the edge of his bed, hands held above his head, one side of his face flat against the mattress and feet spread wide.  Genji arched his hips high, trying to keep the pressure off his cock.  The temptation to rut into the blankets was strong, and he was already being punished.

 

It wasn’t a good idea to give Zenyatta any more ammunition.

 

There were no cuffs, or ropes, or anything to hold him in place, because that would be too easy.  It would give him something to strain against, something to help keep him where he needed to be.  A crutch in his submission, and Zenyatta wouldn’t allow it.

 

He wanted Genji keep himself still through sheer force of will.

 

“I would have expected you to know better by now, but we keep coming back here, do we not?” 

 

Zenyatta paused, not because he was expecting an answer, but to reach down and take hold of the plug he’d eased into Genji a few minutes before.  He tugged it out to the widest point, letting Genji feel the stretch of it, turning it slowly.  Genji whined and went up on his toes, eager for any stimulation he could get.  So far all the direct contact he’d gotten was almost clinical, Zenyatta swiftly opening him up to press the plug inside.  Then he’d slipped a cock ring on him, ordered him over the bed, and left him there.

 

Patience wasn’t one of Genji’s strong suits at the best of times, but it was even more difficult when Zenyatta pressed a button and the plug within him starting buzzing.  Low, pulsing vibrations, growing stronger in waves before stopping entirely.  Enough to keep him viciously hard, precome leaking from him to make a mess of the sheets underneath him, but not quite enough tip him over into climax.  Genji teetered on the edge, thighs shaking, feet scrabbling for purchase on the carpet.  

 

“You suffer in silence, when there is no need for such a thing.”

 

“I wasn’t  _ suffering,  _ master, I was just-”

 

Zenyatta shoved the plug back into him all at once, and Genji moaned, body jerking as his words cut off.

 

“You were just alone at your apartment, dwelling on problems you cannot solve, thinking yourself a burden to those around you.  An annoyance to your brother, an inconvenience to me, a third wheel to Jackson and Gabriel.  Tell me, Genji.  Are you any of those things?”

 

He should have expected Zenyatta to read him like a book by now.  Genji tried to catch his breath and force his mouth to work at the same time as his brain, because only an honest answer, phrased the right way, would get him anywhere with Zenyatta.

 

“No, master, but it still… feels that way, sometimes.”

 

Zenyatta hummed, and for a moment Genji thought he might have satisfied him with his response.  

 

Then the vibrations within him ratcheted up a notch, making his spine arch and his toes curl.  Genji writhed, focusing all his attention of staving off the orgasm that was climbing down his spine.

 

If he came before Zenyatta even really got started, Genji would be feeling it for days.  Zenyatta palmed at his ass, tugging his cheeks apart, then pressing them back together, making the plug jostle around tortuously inside.  Heat rolled over him, and he clenched his jaw, shivering with the pleasure of it.

 

“You have an awful lot of worries for someone who pretends to be selfish and mercurial.  I’ve told you before, as have your sirs, that when you are feeling isolated you are to come to me and let me remedy the situation, not further seclude yourself.”

 

Zenyatta’s hands fell away for a moment, and Genji made the mistake of looking over his shoulder.  Zenyatta had a wide black paddle in one hand now, and Genji whined at the sight, unsure if he was eager or wary.  Spankings were something he enjoyed a lot when he was bent over Gabriel’s knee.  Less so over Jack’s, but Genji still made out well in the end, once Jack decided he had been suitably submissive.  

 

Zenyatta’s spankings were not primarily given with Genji’s pleasure in mind, even if he inevitably enjoyed it.  That was secondary to Zenyatta’s purposes, something almost coincidental.  A happy accident, and Genji fisted the blankets tighter, apologies falling from his mouth.

 

“I’m sorry, master.  I’ll talk to Jack and Gabe when they get back, and I’ll tell you when I’m feeling shitty.  I’ll do better, I promise.  Please, just-”  

 

The vibrations inside him increased another notch, until Genji was drooling, heat pooling in his guts.  The need to come was a visceral thing, and Genji felt it all over.  In his teeth, and his fingertips, and his chest, rushing through his blood, making his throat tight.

 

“Just what, Genji?”

 

_ Genji.   _

 

Zenyatta rarely called him by name, and when he did it hit Genji like a blow.  He whimpered, struggling to keep himself still, legs straining and threatening to drop out from beneath him.

 

“Please let me come, master.  I’ll be good, I’ll… I’ll be good, I swear.”

 

Zenyatta laid the flat surface of the paddle over his ass, not striking, but pressing down just slightly.  A threat.

 

A promise. 

 

“You are always good, my student, but you still have not learned to value your feelings as they should be, and pain is an excellent teacher.”

 

Genji made a noise of complaint, panting through the effort of holding himself back, sweat dripping down his collarbones.

 

“Let me…  let me come first, and then… teach me, master.  After.  Please, please, I-”  

 

Genji trembled, the sensations inside him rising and falling, bringing him closer and closer to ecstasy each time before dropping off again.  He felt almost frantic, mind racing to come up with some way to get Zenyatta to give him what he wanted.  A pitiful look was enough for Gabriel, a few well worded pleas all it took for Jack to give in.

 

But there wasn’t any way to control Zenyatta with his submission as he did everyone else, no way to twist Zenyatta to his will through careful prostration and obedience.

 

It was misery, and ecstasy, and Genji let out a ragged sob before continuing in his useless attempt to sway his master.

 

“I need to come, please, I’ll learn this time, I- I-”

 

Zenyatta pressed the paddle harder against Genji’s skin, putting more pressure on the plug, until Genji choked out a desperate noise and fell silent.

 

“There is disquiet in you.  I will help you regain balance first.  Do not find release before I give you permission.  Shall we begin?”

 

The question came off as something rhetorical, but Genji knew it was not.  Zenyatta would not proceed without his consent.  There were no safe words with Zenyatta, no give, no flexibility.  If Genji said no, said stop, said wait, Zenyatta listened to him.  So Genji had to be careful of what came out of his mouth in the heat of the moment, mindful of Zenyatta.

 

Because in spite of everything, the last thing Genji wanted was for Zenyatta to actually  _ stop. _

 

Genji spread his feet a bit wider on the floor, lifting his hips, adjusting his grip on the blankets in his fists.  He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the fresh pulse of precome slipping down his cock, and nodded once.

 

“Yes, master.  Please.”

 

Zenyatta didn’t want Genji to count, because he never gave him a set number of blows.  

 

_ ‘We will proceed until you are in harmony,’  _ and then the paddle or crop fell until Genji was boneless and shaking.

 

The first strike landed without warning, hitting both cheeks at once, and Genji should have anticipated just how much worse it would be while wearing a plug.  It nudged further into him, the flared base keeping it from going too far, but still letting it shift around inside.  Genji exhaled sharply, the sensation more heat than pain at this point, warmth spreading across his skin.  Zenyatta’s second strike hit only Genji’s left cheek.  The third on the right, and the fourth back across the center, grinding the toy mercilessly deeper.  The same pattern Zenyatta always used to spank him.

 

Familiar, but no less tortuous, no matter how many times he was on the receiving end.

 

The sound of the leather surface of the paddle smacking into Genji’s flesh was loud in his ears, jarring, and Genji rocked forward with each blow.  Without the cock ring, Genji would have come already, the tight silicone staving off his orgasm.  A gift, and a curse, and Genji rutted into the blankets shamelessly, his skin on fire where the paddle landed again and again.  

 

Ten, and then fifteen, and then Genji lost count, the pain starting to flare bright and hot and too fierce to ignore.  It did little to quell Genji’s vicious need to come.  If anything Genji was even closer to climax, the ache of the strikes mixing with the ache of his need and making his eyes roll back in his head.  

 

His feet slid out from underneath him at some point, and Genji sagged against the bed, muscles tight as he trembled.  Tears welled up in his eyes, and Genji blinked to hold them at bay, breath coming faster and faster.

 

It was all too much.  The leather on his skin, an open flame with every strike, the noise cacophonous in the small room.  The stretch of the plug spreading him open, grinding in, vibrations surging up higher and higher only to fall back again.  Genji’s cock throbbed, the sheets slick underneath him, his cheeks flushed.  Mouth open and leaking drool onto his bed, hands sore from how tight he was fisting the comforter.  Hair wild, and cheeks wet, because Genji was crying, now, tears rolling down his face as he made wretched, broken sounds.

 

There weren’t even any individual blows, anymore.  It was all a wash of feeling.  Genji on the knife’s edge of orgasm, set aflame, keening and sobbing and shaking like a leaf, all of Zenyatta’s attention focused squarely on him.

 

Broken down into sensation, and there was nothing else.  Heat, and need, and pain, and Zenyatta.

 

Zenyatta  _ loved  _ him.

 

His muscles went loose little by little, until Genji was pliant and liquid, his only movement the instinctive grinding of his hips forward into the bed, and back into Zenyatta’s strikes.  He let go of the blankets, blood rushing back into his fingers, pins and needles.  Genji still needed to come, badly, but there was nothing he could do about it.  Nothing he could do about anything at all.  Genji could only breathe, and feel, and be.  

 

Genji would take whatever Zenyatta gave him, whenever he gave it.

 

He floated in the haze of it, that weightless cloud of utter surrender, tears still tracking down his cheeks.  Genji didn’t know how long he was there, drifting and dazed and euphoric.  Time was meaningless.  All that mattered was that Zenyatta was there, watching him, taking care of him.  Genji didn’t notice when the blows stopped falling, but then he was being manhandled into Zenyatta’s lap, both of them hovering just over mattress.

 

Zenyatta turned him until his face was pressed into his master’s neck, legs wrapped around his waist, arms loose over his shoulders.  He eased the plug out of Genji, and slipped off the cockring.  Warm metal fingers pressed into him, and closed around his cock.  Too many hands, one soothing down his spine, another stroking through his hair, others clinging tight to his hips.

 

Zenyatta, transcendent.  Quaking around Genji, orbs twitching erratically in the air.  Voice glitched out and stuttering in Genji’s ear as he worked him, stroking his cock, fingers twisting inside.

 

“Co- come for me, Genji.”

 

Static overlaid the words, the light in Zenyatta’s orbs and faceplate strobing bright and dim and back again.  Louder, and brighter, the hands all over Genji clutching and shivery.  Empathetic overload.

 

_ ‘How could I not lose myself?’ _

 

_ ‘You’re magnificent.’ _

 

Genji’s entire body jerked as he came over Zenyatta’s knuckles, every pulse of fluid making him shudder, until he felt raw and empty.  

 

“You are beautiful like this, my love,” Zenyatta said, voice still glitching and full of static.  “Resplendent in the glow of the Iris.”

 

Genji whined out a pitiful noise at the praise and tucked himself further into Zenyatta’s arms.  Overwhelmed, like he’d been pried open and laid bare.  Then there was a metallic noise, and he was bathed in warm golden light, a feeling of utter tranquility rolling over him.  One of Zenyatta’s orbs, holding him tight, keeping him safe.  Tying him to Zenyatta, both of them blissed out and content.  They floated for a while, Genji dozing, until Zenyatta broke the quiet.

 

“I am still going to tell your sirs about this.  Your egregious lack of self care, and inattention to your own emotional well being.”

 

Genji groaned, and held Zenyatta tighter.  Three punishments for the price of one.

 

A blessing, and a curse, and Genji let the glow of Zenyatta’s orb lull him to sleep.

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
